Thousands of demons, a cacophony of shapes, sizes, and colors, buzzed with an energy that vibrated through the very stone. Cirrus and Iruma found themselves swallowed by the tide, jostled and nudged until they settled into a pair of seats amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Iruma, a small, fragile human amidst a legion of predators, was a trembling leaf in a hurricane. His eyes darted around, wide with a fear he desperately tried to suppress. Sweat beaded on his forehead, tracing cold paths down his temples. Every whisper, every low growl, every glint of sharp teeth sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He felt utterly exposed, a lone sheep in a wolf den.
"Hey," a demon with a long, serpentine neck and eyes like molten gold hissed from the seat beside Iruma, its voice a low rumble. "Doesn't something smell... really delicious? Like fresh meat, but sweeter?"
Iruma flinched, a fresh wave of cold sweat breaking out. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of his terror. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could disappear.
Beside him, Cirrus remained a picture of serene calm. His eyes were closed, his silver-lavender hair a tranquil cascade against the dark fabric of his uniform. He seemed utterly unbothered, a still point in the swirling chaos. Yet, his internal landscape was anything but still. He felt Iruma's fear, a sharp, discordant note in the symphony of desires around them. It was a raw, primal terror, unlike anything he had ever encountered.
With a subtle shift of his mana, Cirrus reached out. He didn't touch Iruma physically, but his Dream magic, a gentle, pervasive current, flowed into his brother's mind. It was a whisper, a suggestion, a soothing balm.
Relax, Iruma. Close your eyes. Don't resist.
Iruma, startled by the sudden, calming presence in his mind, looked nervously at Cirrus. His brother's face was utterly serene, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. Despite his fear, Iruma found himself obeying. He closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat.
Cirrus began to weave. He flooded Iruma's consciousness with dreams of comfort, of safety, of quiet accomplishment. He layered sensations of peace, of belonging, of triumphant success. He painted vivid mental images: Iruma standing tall, unburdened by fear, surrounded by friendly faces. He whispered ideas into the deeper currents of Iruma's mind: You are the first human here. You are special. You will not be found out. You are safe. You are strong. He buried the raw fear under layers of potent, positive emotional experiences, creating a mental fortress of confidence.
The chaotic symphony of the auditorium began to fade for Iruma, replaced by a warm, resonant hum. The tightness in his chest eased, his shoulders relaxing. A strange, unfamiliar sense of calm settled over him, followed by a surge of quiet determination.
"You can open them now, Iruma," Cirrus murmured, his voice a soft melody that cut through the lingering echoes of the Dream.
Iruma opened his eyes. The auditorium was still vast, still filled with demons, but the oppressive fear had vanished. In its place was a quiet confidence, a sense of safety, and a surprising comfort. He felt... good. He felt like he could face anything. He blinked, bewildered by the sudden, profound shift in his emotional state.
"How... how did you do that?" Iruma whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Cirrus gave a small, knowing smile, his blue-green eyes now open, reflecting the vibrant energy of the hall. "That's my magic, Iruma. Just a little something to help you calm down."
Iruma stared at him, a wave of gratitude washing over him. "Thank you, Cirrus. Really, thank you."
Cirrus closed his eyes again, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. "You don't have to, Iruma. You're my brother. And you're welcome."
Cirrus then averted his attention back to himself, though his eyes remained closed. He felt the crowd, a thousand thousand emotions, intents, and desires swirling around him. It was overwhelming, a tidal wave of information, but he had learned to ride the currents. Then, a familiar presence He smiled, a genuine, private smile, and then closed his eyes again, content to simply be.
Minutes later, the low murmur of the demons around them began to die down. A sharp, authoritative voice cut through the air.
"Silence!"
Iruma flinched, his eyes snapping to the stage. A tall, dark-haired demon with piercing black eyes and a stern expression stood at the podium, clad in a teacher's uniform. Is he a teacher? Iruma thought, a fresh tremor of nervousness. He seems... scary.
Another demon, with brown hair and a more approachable demeanor, stepped forward, adjusting the microphone. "Thank you for waiting! It is 6:06 AM. We will now begin the entrance ceremony for Babyls Demon School!"
A grand, ominous melody swelled through the auditorium, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated in Iruma's very bones. All the demons around them rose to their feet, their expressions solemn, and began to sing the Babyls school anthem. The lyrics, translated instantly by the magic of the Netherworld, spoke of the glory of demons, the weakness of humans, and the deliciousness of human flesh. Iruma's blood ran cold, but the lingering effects of Cirrus's Dream magic kept the terror at bay. He felt a strange, detached curiosity, a sense of this is interesting rather than I'm going to be eaten.
After the anthem concluded, a wave of excited chatter rippled through the vast hall. The brown-haired demon, the announcer, stepped forward once more, his voice booming. "Next, a greeting from our esteemed director, Lord Sullivan!"
The announcement was met with an explosion of cheers. Demons roared, stomped, and clapped, their voices echoing with fervent praise. "The next Demon King!" one shouted. "Long live Sullivan-sama!" another bellowed. Iruma, still reeling from the school anthem, blinked in confusion. The Demon King? he thought, recalling the terrifying legends he'd heard.
He glanced at Cirrus, who remained unperturbed, his eyes still closed, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. As expected of him, Iruma mused, a strange sense of comfort settling in. Cirrus always seemed to know everything, to be prepared for anything. His calm was infectious.
Then, a familiar, booming voice filled the auditorium, amplified by magic. "Cirrus-kun! Iruma-kun! It is I, your Grandpa!"
Iruma's jaw dropped. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Grandpa is the Principal?! The realization hit him like a physical blow. He had known Sullivan was powerful, but this... this was beyond anything he could have imagined. The murmurs around him intensified, demons whispering.
Cirrus, however, merely sighed contentedly, a soft, almost inaudible sound. He had known, of course. Sullivan loved to brag, and his position as one of the Thirteen Crowns and the head of Babyls was a frequent topic of conversation during their quiet evenings. He could feel the waves of surprise and curiosity radiating from the surrounding demons, a fascinating shift in the collective dream of the auditorium.
On stage, Sullivan beamed, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Yes, indeed! My two adorable grandsons now attend this very school! Aren't they just precious? And look!" He conjured a massive, shimmering projection above the stage—the family picture they had taken just hours ago.
The demons around Iruma and Cirrus gasped, recognizing them from the giant image. More whispers erupted, a mixture of awe and disbelief. Sullivan, oblivious to the uproar, continued, "I'll make sure everyone gets a copy!"
With a final, triumphant wave, Sullivan practically skipped off the stage, leaving a bewildered Iruma and a quietly amused Cirrus in his wake. The announcer, a little flustered, stepped back to the mic.
"Next," he announced, his voice regaining its composure, "a greeting from the representative new student!"
Another wave of murmurs swept through the crowd. "He ranked first in the entrance exam!" a demon whispered. "He's so good!"
"The representative of the new students, Asmodeus Alice!" the announcer declared.
As a demon with striking pink hair and an aura of intense pride began to stride confidently onto the stage, the announcer's voice cut in again, a note of unexpected change in his tone. "However, the one who will give the greeting in his place is the honor student, Iruma-kun!"
The auditorium erupted. "Why him?" "Iruma?" Confusion and indignation filled the air. Asmodeus Alice, halfway to the stage, froze, his eyes widening in disbelief, then narrowing into a furious glare.
Iruma, utterly stunned, felt a gentle nudge from Cirrus. He looked at his brother, whose eyes were now open, a subtle glint of encouragement in their blue-green depths. Cirrus gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Go, his gaze seemed to say. This is your debut. Don't make Grandpa lose face.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Iruma nodded back. He stood up, his legs feeling like jelly, and began to walk toward the stage. He moved with a strange mix of trepidation and a newfound, almost forced confidence, the lingering effects of Cirrus's Dream magic still cushioning his fear. He reached the podium, his eyes scanning the sea of demon faces, then landing on Sullivan, who was now at the side of the stage, holding a camera and giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
On the podium lay a piece of paper. Sullivan, seeing Iruma's hesitation, gestured wildly, mouthing, Flip the page! Iruma obeyed, his fingers trembling slightly as he turned the sheet. There, written in elegant, flowing script, were the words of the speech.
He looked out at the crowd, then to Cirrus, who offered another encouraging nod, a silent promise of support. Iruma took another deep breath, the scent of ozone and ancient magic filling his lungs, and began to recite.
"Aberuhauke Tarutodari Jusabebe Risutoru Aburuze..."
As the strange, guttural words left his lips, Iruma felt a peculiar sensation. The air around him seemed to distort, to thicken, to hum with an unseen energy. A low, resonant thrum vibrated through the stage, through the very floor of the auditorium. He felt a strange, almost intoxicating power building within him, but he continued, his voice gaining an unexpected strength.
"Sutomaru Aberuge Uru Mahoraba..."
The words flowed, each one a key unlocking something ancient and potent. The hum intensified, and a faint, emerald green aura began to shimmer around Iruma, almost imperceptible at first, then growing brighter. The demons in the audience stirred, their murmurs turning into gasps of awe and confusion. Even Asmodeus Alice, his face contorted in a furious scowl, found his attention drawn to the stage, a flicker of grudging respect in his eyes.
"...Tsurezaza!"
With the final word, the green glow around Iruma flared, a brilliant, emerald burst that momentarily illuminated the entire auditorium, then vanished as quickly as it appeared. A profound silence descended, thick and heavy, before erupting into a deafening roar. The crowd went wild, cheering, stomping, and applauding with a fervor that shook the very foundations of Babyls.
Iruma, startled by the overwhelming reaction, stood frozen on stage. The brown-haired demon, the announcer, rushed forward, his face a mixture of awe and exasperation. "Iruma-kun! Do you have any idea what you just did?! That was a forbidden spell! A single misspoken word, and you would have... blown up!"
Iruma's face went white. Blown up?! The terror, momentarily suppressed by Cirrus's magic, threatened to resurface. But the lingering comfort, the quiet confidence Cirrus had instilled, held it at bay. He felt a strange, almost detached horror, a sense of that was close rather than I'm going to die.
He bowed deeply to the teachers, his mind still reeling, and quickly made his way off the stage, the cheers of the crowd following him like a thunderous echo. The entrance ceremony, in its own chaotic, unforgettable way, had concluded.
In the crowd, a demon with vibrant pink hair watched Iruma descend from the stage, his eyes narrowed, his teeth gritted. Asmodeus Alice, the top-ranked freshman, felt a burning irritation, a fierce challenge to his pride. Iruma! he thought, a spark of anger igniting in his demonic heart.